Let Her Go
by NeedToKnow
Summary: After the fall, Sherlock must deal with the demons that came with jumping. He also must deal with new developments involving a certain pathologist. A short Sherlolly story - Rating might change later. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

This is my first fic... like ever. Comments are encouraged. I will try to post a new chapter every week, but please don't hate me if I can't.

Alright here we go. The title comes from the song by The Passengers of the same name.

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Molly struggled to support Sherlock's weight as she opened the door to her flat. They stumbled through the door and she guided him to the sofa. She went to go get her medical kit to patch him up. Luckily, because all had gone according to plan, he wasn't hurt to badly. Molly began cleaning the minor cuts on his face.

"This might sting," she whispered to him.

He looked as though he hadn't heard her. Sherlock continued to stare straight ahead, his eyes unfocused.

Molly knew he was in shock so she continued to clean his face and neck wounds and he continued to look as though he didn't realize she was there. She then took care of the cuts on his hands and looked the rest of him over. Once she was sure that she had taken care of all of the wounds, Molly put her kit away and asked if he wanted tea. He didn't give her an answer.

She left him to sit while she went in her room to get ready for bed. By the time the mess at the hospital had been sorted and they'd been able to leave, it had gotten dark. It wasn't to late, but Molly was exhausted and she couldn't help but notice that Sherlock was too. Their plan had miraculously succeeded even though it meant that Sherlock was now dead to the world.

She still couldn't believe that he had come to her for help.

As she came out of the bedroom, she noticed that Sherlock was no longer on the sofa. Molly heard him in the bathroom and approached cautiously. When she got to the door, she could heard him more clearly. Molly opened the door and saw exactly what she had expected: Sherlock retching into her toilet. He looked so pale and tired. Molly grabbed a towel and went over to him. She reached out and brushed his hair off of his forehead. He didn't move an inch as she wiped his face with the towel. Seeing him like this, more like a human, made Molly less nervous. It was like they were more on the same level now.

"It's probably just a reaction to the drug. Hopefully, it won't last for much longer."

He looked up at her. She was inwardly shocked to see that his gaze was not cold as it usually was. It instead seemed soft and vulnerable and it made Molly's heart ache. She tried her hardest to keep a passive outer shell as he so often did because she knew that, even in the state, he would hate for her to pity him. Sherlock looked like he was ready to reply to her.

"Do you think you're done?"

Sherlock blinked at her. He took a minute but then slowly nodded.

Molly reached down and took him by the hands. She helped him to his feet slowly. Once he was standing steady, she let him rinse his mouth out and then lead him into her bedroom. She was slightly nervous about having him in her room, but there wasn't much she could do. Her bed was far more comfortable than the pull-out and he needed his rest.

"I have some of my dad's old clothes here somewhere," she started looking through the drawers. Molly pulled out a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. She turned back to him only to find him looking at her curiously.

"Before he died - my dad - he st-stayed with me here for a while. I- Well I haven't had the heart to get rid of his things."

She saw him nod slightly. He moved to grab the clothing from where she laid it on the bed.

"If you need me, I'll be out on the pull-out sofa."

Molly went to walk out the door, but Sherlock's hand on her arm stopped her.

She turned back to him slowly. The look in his eyes said everything. He could tell what she was holding in because it was the same things that he was. She knew that he was feeling the effects of what happened more than she was, obviously, but she didn't to let him see that she was struggling as well. She was just going to curl up on the sofa bed and will sleep to take her. However, as always, Sherlock knew exactly what she was hiding.

Sherlock pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. His hold on her was fierce and strong. Molly felt shocked that Sherlock would seek out this kind of physical contact with her, but he had just suffered greatly and (maybe, just maybe) needed her. She relaxed into the embrace and brought her arms around his waist.

Molly felt that he was crying somewhat as he rested his cheek on top of her head. She'd never seen him cry before, she didn't think anyone had. He was dealing with a lot. He had to lie to the most important people in his life. She couldn't really begin to know what he was thinking. She didn't really know how to comfort him either because even though he was acting more human didn't mean that he would want to be comforted like a normal person. The embrace seemed to help, but she was afraid to do much else.

Even though everyone else might see Sherlock as a fraud right now, Molly knew better. She knew that he was brilliant even if he was an utter arse most of the time. When he released her from his hold, he kissed her forehead lightly and turned back towards the bed to change. Molly felt a sudden loss when he let go and then a jolt when he kissed her.

"Goodnight, Sherlock," Molly said softly as she walked back to the sitting room to go to bed.

"Goodnight, Molly," he said mostly to himself because she had already gone.

As Molly fell asleep, she swore to herself that she would help Sherlock through this as best she could. He did, after all, come to her in his time of need.

As Sherlock fell asleep, he thought of the woman who had saved him in every way possible. He felt something blossom inside of him and he wasn't quite sure if he was pleased with the new development. He knew he should think it through, but after the day he had had, his body (and mind) had the overwhelming urge to sleep. Sherlock drifted of peacefully trying to push his odd thoughts about Molly aside until tomorrow.

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First Chapter - Done! Please let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

OMG! I feel awful about not updating sooner.

I have a lot of school work to do, but I'm going to try and update more regularly.

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Molly was brought out of her slumber by a great _thud._ She sat up on the sofa-bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She stood carefully and went into the bedroom. Sherlock was on the floor, rubbing his head. He turned and looked at her.

"Didn't mean to wake you," he said thickly.

Molly just looked at him. A small smile was forming on her lips.

"Are you alright?" she asked him.

He stood up, "Yes, I-I'm fine."

She waited a moment. They both just stood where they were. He didn't make any move to get back into bed.

"Are you sure?" she asked quietly.

He looked up at her and just stared. There was something in his eyes again - a softness.

"No," he replied so low that Molly could not hear him.

"W-What?"

"No," Sherlock muttered a little more loudly, "I'm not sure I'm alright."

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

There was a pause that lasted just a little too long.

"Then what is it?"

He just looked down at the floor.

Molly crossed the room to him and laid a hand on his arm. _That_ made him look up.

"Sherlock? What's wrong?"

He seemed to consider he question for a moment. Maybe he was trying to decide which which words to use.

"I had a nightmare," he took a breath and made eye contact before adding, "about the fall."

She wanted to comfort him. She didn't know how and she felt awful.

"What can I do?"

"Nothing. I'm fine. I'll just read. I-I've had enough sleep for tonight."

"No, Sherlock! You need to sleep! You've been through a lot. You're body needs time to recover."

Sherlock just looked at her. His eyes were sort of pleading with her to allow him to remain awake. She almost just left him to go back to bed and let him do as he pleased, but she remembered her promise. She had to get him through this and that required sleep.

"Sherlock, please go back to sleep!"

"Even if I do, I'll just be awoken again by my unpleasant dreams!"

"Did you have nightmares as a child?"

Sherlock looked at her curiously before replying, "Yes."

"What did your mother do to help you?"

He saw where she was going with this and was a little afraid to state what his mother did for him when he was young.

"Sherlock? What did she do? Warm milk? Stories?"

He cleared his throat and sheepishly replied, "She let me sleep in her bed with her."

His eyes were now fixed on his feet.

_Oh._ Molly didn't really want to share a bed with Sherlock in fear of how her body (and mind) might react to such stimuli, but he needed this, he needed her.

"Okay. Get in."

He looked up at her, utterly shocked. _Really!_ He wanted to sort out this new _feeling _by himself in his mind palace before doing anything about it. Being in the same bed with Molly might be to much.

"Come on!"

She was insisting. He would have to do it.

Sherlock got into the bed and quickly turned away from where Molly was pulling back the covers. She got in and turned away from him. They were both uncomfortable Of course Molly just thought it was Sherlock being Sherlock, she had no idea how unsure he felt.

"Just try and fall back asleep. Goodnight, Sherlock."

"Goodnight, Molly."


End file.
